Green-eyed monsters
by screenwriter2014
Summary: What if it all just became a bit too much for Robbie?


Laura Hobson eased her way between the cluttered desks in the incident room. It was a Friday night, and although a few sad souls were still tapping away at their keyboards, the majority of their colleagues had headed home. In the far corner, the lights were still clearly on in Robbie's office, the door ajar. She wasn't surprised. Indeed, it was the hope that he might still be around that had prompted the detour on her way to the car park. His blind was up, and as she approached, she realised that he was on the phone, his back to the room.

"Hmm…ok love, but look, we'll need to work through all the details nearer the time…"

It would be Lynne, had to be. Laura hesitated.

"Probably easier if I come to you, but you're always welcome…"

She sighed and lent against an empty desk. The momentary inconvenience of having to wait had planted a seed of doubt. Had brought home the frustrating reality of her non-relationship with Robbie Lewis. Here he was, chatting to his daughter, confident in his role, making future plans with his family. And yet with her he would barely commit to planning a drink after work.

"Well, I haven't booked my leave yet, pet, but definitely a week or so. Will be nice to see you and the boys…proper family one…"

Laura checked her watch, 7.20. Maybe he wouldn't be interested in a drink anyway? And she did have the grocery shopping to do…

Inspector Craig looked up from the large pile of papers covering his desk and met her eye sympathetically,

"I don't fancy your chances, doc, he's been yapping away for ages"

She smiled tightly. Was she that bloody transparent? Fine. A Friday night dash to the supermarket then...

* * *

A flash of blonde caught Robbie's eye as he turned, and for a moment he lost his train of thought,

"Sorry, love,..what did you say?"

Lynne was rabbiting on about Christmas plans, had been for the best part of ten minutes, and while he was always pleased to hear from his daughter, he was tired and it was only September. He wasn't certain, but he could have sworn that Laura had just walked out of the incident room. He checked the clock on his desk, and looked back across the room. It was certainly a possibility. He smiled to himself as he pondered the significance. Perhaps he might catch up with her if he got a move on?

"OK, great. Well, if you don't mind, I really need to get moving, love."

If Lynne was taken aback with his abruptness, she didn't show it. She was well-used to her dad dashing off in his line of work.

With one hand Robbie powered down the computer, and with the other he keyed in a text. Who said that men couldn't multi-task? Grabbing his jacket from the back of the door and his car keys from the desk, he purposefully strode off in pursuit.

* * *

Laura turned the final corner before the station doors and, distracted by the beep of an incoming text, barrelled straight into DI Peterson.

"Laura, you really should stop throwing yourself at me like this"

She shook her head, feigning disapproval,

"You're incorrigible, you know that, don't you?"

He beamed at her, and she couldn't help laughing as he held open the door for her and they wandered out into the carpark. In spite of all the trouble he seemed to cause amongst the female population of Oxford, she couldn't help but have a soft spot for the young man. Once upon a time he'd asked her out, and although she would never admit it sober, she had been both flattered and enormously entertained by the offer. He had the most beautiful green eyes, and, well...never mind. Never even a possibility, not in a million years.

"So any plans for tonight, lover boy?"

"You wound me, Dr Hobson…"

"It could certainly be arranged"

"Haha, very funny…actually, I do, have plans that is"

She grinned, feigning shock,

"Surely not?"

"Yep, the lovely Emma is not only allowing me to cook her dinner, but she has also promised an action film if I behave myself"

"Still going strong, then?"

"Yes…great actually. Six months next week…"

She smiled warmly and squeezed his arm,

"That's brilliant, she's a lucky woman"

His phone buzzed and he dug around in his pocket.

"Ah, the lovely lady herself…apparently I need to get tinned tomatoes…ah domesticity, thou art a harsh mistress"

The phone in Laura's hand pinged again, the text still unread. She read it quickly.

"Hmm…and in a rather tragic symmetry, Lewis has just texted a single word: 'beer?'"

Peterson coughed back a laugh, trying to sympathise,

"He'll get there, Laura…"

Her eyes flashed with something close to irritation, and he paused, knowing already that the topic was not open for discussion. He'd broached it before, and regretted it instantly. Clearly Lewis was blind to the lovely Dr Hobson, and to be honest he rather enjoyed needling the old fool about her. He didn't deserve her if he couldn't get the bottle to ask her out. But it was rough on her… He patted her shoulder affectionately, and proffered an arm,

"Walk you to your car, m'lady?"

She snorted and grinned indulgently,

"Oh sod off, you charmer…I've told you before, I'm immune to you"

He sauntered off in the direction of his car, winking and pretending to leer,

"Yeah, yeah…take care Laura…enjoy the beer"

"Shut up, Peterson…"

* * *

As he watched them together, his body shielded by her car, Robbie felt the anger coiling inside him. The shared laughter, the casual touches. Probably exchanging phone numbers. He actually felt sick at the thought. By the time she reached her car and spotted him, his hands were balled into fists, his fingernails digging into his palms.

"Oh, hi Robbie…I didn't see you there…loitering with intent?"

Her voice was light and playful…teasing. For a moment he forgot that his car was halfway across the other side of the carpark, and that he had no logical reason to be standing by her car,

"No. Just going home"

He was caught between fury and utter desperation, and his voice had an odd flat tone. She seemed to register it immediately, and she stepped closer, her hand reaching for his upper arm,

"Are you ok? You look terrible"

There was genuine concern in her eyes and the anger coiled tighter in his stomach. Always the object of her pity.

"I'm fine. Just tired…need an early night"

He stepped backwards slightly, moving away from her grasp, turning away.

Laura was confused, but didn't see any reason to press him further. Perhaps it had been a long week. As usual, she floated the possibility of a compromise,

"Oh…ok…we could always have a beer tomorrow, if you'd prefer?"

A smirk ghosted across his lips,

"Sure you don't have other plans?"

"Um…yeah…pretty sure…why?"

"It's nothing"

She gave him another quizzical look, before reaching out to squeeze his arm again,

"OK…well, you know where I am if you change your mind."

* * *

Laura had already spent far too many years second-guessing the depths of Robbie Lewis's heart, and she'd recently come to the conclusion that all her musings had got her precisely nowhere. Life was too short to waste it on wanting what you couldn't have, and in spite of Peterson's relentless winding up, and Hathaway's occasional jibe, as far Robbie Lewis was concerned, that ship had most definitely sailed. But she was worried. Although she was certain that his grief was easing these days, it was rare for him to be this…strange. He turned and began to walk away. She opened her bag and took out her car keys and only then registered that his car was nowhere to be seen. He'd obviously wanted to talk to her… She turned quickly, and seeing that he was only a couple of paces away, called out,

"Oh come on, this isn't nothing…what is it?"

His shoulders were visibly slumped, and she noticed immediately that his hands had balled into fists. She leant back against the car door and waited. He ran his hand over his head, clearly exasperated. Peterson's car swooped past her, and he waved out of the window, smooth as ever.

"Come on, Robbie, this is ridiculous, what have I done?"

She hadn't meant to suggest it was her fault, it was just a turn of phrase. But he tensed visibly, and she frowned, wondering what the hell she had done this time? They weren't involved in any shared cases at the moment, there was nothing outstanding, nothing she'd forgotten to do… Still he hadn't turned round, and she felt her patience running out. He'd clearly had a bad day, and frankly she was sick of the tantrums. Biting her lip, she turned and slid the key back into the lock, muttering under her breath,

"Fine…let me know when you're being less pathetic"

* * *

"That's how you see me, isn't it?"

Somehow he was standing just behind her, almost too close, she could feel his breath against her hair. She turned slowly, her hand automatically coming to rest on his chest, pushing him away,

"What do you mean?"

His face was reddening, and he practically spat the words at her,

"Pathetic…useless…a sad old man"

She stepped back, the car door hard against her and realised that she had nowhere to go,

"Why the hell would you say that?"

He sneered and looked up at the sky,

"I saw you with him, laughing away, making plans…probably having a good joke at my expense"

His breath was hot against her cheek, coffee mixed with his aftershave assaulted her senses. Her irritation began to give way to panic. Her question was now little more than a whisper,

"Who are you talking about?"

He slammed his hand into the car door, and she jumped,

"Aw, do me a favour…"

The penny dropped…

"Are you being serious? Again?"

They'd had this exchange - albeit far more calmly - before. She'd been faintly amused the first time and she smiled wryly at the recollection. The second and third times had been ridiculous and mildly frustrating, but seriously, wasn't he past this? How on earth could he feel threatened by Peterson?

"Oh for god's sake, take a look at yourselves, it's bloody obvious"

But this wasn't funny. Irritation rose in her and she shook her head vehemently,

"He's a friend"

Again, that sneer…a horrible twisted smile,

"So that's what we're calling it, these days?"

To her horror, emotion was beginning to rise in her throat, betraying her,

"I can't talk to you when you're like this"

He shook his head, ran his hand over his mouth,

"Well maybe it would be better if we just didn't talk at all?"

She arched her back away from him, trying to turn towards the car door, the key still in her hand. Tears were beginning to form, and she just wanted to get away, get in the car, go home. This wasn't Robbie.

"You have no right to behave like this…"

He gripped her shoulder firmly, pulling her back to face him, his voice low, almost breaking,

"I have every right"

She swallowed nervously, his grip on her upper arm almost painfully tight, and she closed her eyes, willing herself to think of the right thing to say, the words that might defuse this ridiculous, horrible, car crash of an argument,

"I…"

His lips were on hers before she even registered that he'd moved, his free hand wrapping firmly around the back of her head. This was not the gentle, nervous first kiss that she'd imagined more times than she cared to admit. There was a desperation in his grip, his body pressed heavily against hers, effectively pinning her against the car. It was intensely erotic, the urgency of his lips, his hand sliding to cup her cheek, his tongue claiming hers, and her body responded instantly…but it was too much, too quickly, she couldn't think. She jerked her head back and, almost by instinct, slapped him squarely across the face. He took a deep, shaky breath, instantly releasing his grasp on her arm, stepping back, his hand nervously rubbing his mouth.

* * *

For a long moment, he just stared at her, shock and fury dissolved into an unnerving blankness. The tears that had threatened now coursed down her cheeks, her breath catching. He didn't know what to say…what could he say? For the first time in his life he had been entirely out of control. It was terrifying. Adrenaline was coursing through his body, the magnitude of what he'd just done beginning to register. He had destroyed everything.

"Laura…I…"

She stared at him, her eyes wide. The redness starting to spread across his left cheek, and the smarting of her palm was the only way she could be sure of what had just happened.

She took a deep breath and slowly lifted her palm to his cheek. He flinched slightly at the delicate contact, but then leant into her touch. He swallowed, tried again to speak, but she silenced him with a gentle stroke of her thumb over his lower lip, and shook her head. He looked down at the floor, broken.

"Look at me"

Eventually he did, and taking another careful, measured breath she stepped closer, her eyes never leaving his. Reaching up, she pressed a feather-light kiss to his now-reddening cheek, before slowly, tracing her lips across his face, to meet his mouth.

"You scared me..."

"Laura…"

He whispered her name against her lips, his hand running tenderly through her hair. His breath was still shaky, and he rested his forehead against hers, his fingers lightly caressing her cheek,

"I'm sorry…"

She kissed him gently, her lips ghosting across his, teasing and playful. He cupped her cheek and tenderly met her kisses, each one erasing his angry assault on her lips. She reached out to him, her arm sliding under his jacket, and around his back, and he wrapped her against his chest. They were stood slap bang in the middle of the station car park, visible to anyone who cared to notice, but she didn't care. His lips came to rest on the crown of her head, his embrace enveloping her entirely.

His voice was soft now,

"I feel like I should say something, I don't know what to say"

She smiled against his chest, and shook her head,

"No, I think you said quite enough"

A chuckle rumbled in her ear,

"But…"

Laura disentangled herself a little and looked up,

"I know. OK… But I only have one question"

He raised an eyebrow.

She paused, wondering how straight to be. She was still in shock at his actions, and for a moment she wondered if she could entirely trust her own judgement. But it didn't seem to be the day for holding back. She could trust him. In spite of it all, she was certain of that.

"Do you want to give this a try?"

Not for the first, or indeed the last time, Robbie was surprised by her frankness. For her ability to just ask. To take him by the hand and lead him to what he couldn't articulate. He knew he didn't deserve her. But he would try to.

"Yes"

She smiled and nodded, before leaning up to press another kiss to his lips. She could feel him trembling, and gripped his arm firmly. This wan't the moment for a post-mortem, however qualified she was in that department. There would be time enough for that. For now, they needed to move forward.

"Well then…I suppose you better take me for a beer"

He smiled back and nodded his approval.

"And then you can buy me dinner…"

He rolled his eyes in fake irritation, before firmly taking hold of her hand and interlacing their fingers.

Still he couldn't be entirely sure what had just happened. How he could have been so entirely unlike himself one moment, and now feel more at home than he had thought possible. As they fell into step, he released her hand and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pausing to kiss the top of her head.

Perhaps Lynne was right to be thinking about the Christmas arrangements already…her old dad might be bringing home a guest this year.


End file.
